Pleasant Endings
by Beloved-Stranger
Summary: “Do you remember what Jet told us when we were little?” His voice was barely a whisper in the rags of her hair. She spoke to his neck, still hiccupping. “‘Never give up’.” He nodded and kissed her temple. “Never give up.”


**Disclaimer:**Don't own Che Fu or the Avatar. And yet somehow, I'll survive. Cheers.**  
**

**AN:** Written post "Lake Laogai". Because I need happy endings. And because MormonMaiden will need a bit of mild Smellershot while I get round to updating 'The Night Temple'. Enjoy.

* * *

**Pleasant Endings**

_No I never thought I'd see the day_

_When you would get up out of here, so_

_Long time friends, we remain the same_

_Until you return one day, I would say_

– Che Fu, "Fade Away" –

* * *

If there was ever any example of the permanent, irreparable damage her country's native benders could wreak, it was here. The young man prone on the table was only gasping roughly now, where before his breathing had be a continuous series of rasps. 

'Lung punctures for sure,' she thought. One of his ribs must have nicked it in the initial concussion. If it had only been a few cracked ones, he might have made a full recovery, with only slight tight chestedness over the next couple of years. But as it was…

"Song!"

The master healer bustled into the room, arms filled to spilling with various concoctions and salves.

"Lady, I don't think that will help…"

"I know, but I can easy him for the moment. You go and put your shoes on; I've an errand for you." Seeing her apprentice's objective look she added, "It's urgent. I want you to go and get Shan."

"The surgeon? But he –!"

"He can say he's retired til he's as blue as his overcoat," the healer said wrathfully. "But you tell him if he doesn't get down he quick-smart I'm coming up!"

Song fled.

* * *

_I'm still thinking_

_Of when we used to chill_

_And reason til the morning sun, so_

_We'd talk of places, never seen before_

* * *

Shan, at age twenty-three, was tired. Life in the Impenetrable City did that to a person, eventually, but usually those were old, and well past their prime. Shan should have been coming into his. 

He was originally of the Northern Water Tribe, but had left the tundra after his sister's death. The whiteout that had taken her had also taken two of his fingers and rendered his left foot a mangled, frostbitten club. He had done his best, but he had not had his sister's training, though she had passed on as much healing craft as she could.

It was traveling, years later, through the Earth Kingdom, that he began life as a surgeon. Using water healing as a way to keep a person numb or unconscious, carefully opening them up, removing, adjusting, correcting… At each village or town he would offer his services in exchange for board and food.

Yet by the time he had been in Ba Sing Se for a year, he was ready to throw in the towel. Too much blood, too much death, too much damage and too much war. Even if they were forbidden to speak of it, it was still there, hovering over them. Waiting, like a stalking animal.

"Master Shan!"

Manic knocking on the front door. He knew the voice. It was Song, the local healer's sweet-faced apprentice. He had helped her and her mother settle in the City not a week ago. This was their second time as refugees, and though Song was coping, Shan suspected that her mother was not.

Opening the door he found her wild-eyed and breathless. She must have run here.

"Song? What's –?"

"Lady Yi Min needs your help. There's a boy – his ribs – they've punctured his lungs. He'll die, you know he will. She said if you don't come, she'll come and get you. We can't save him. Please…"

Shan cursed under his breath. She would cry, he was sure of it. Song was no wilting bloom, but she had a soft spot for tragedy. Usually it stayed dormant during her healing work. Maybe it was cumulative. The build up of overtly tragic events must have finally gotten to her.

Rubbing the dust from his kit-bag, Shan reflected, not for the last time, that life in Ba Sing Se did that to people.

* * *

_Who'd have thought you'd be the one_

_To go out there, over mountains_

_Oceans, highways, byways…_

* * *

It had taken them the better part of an hour to get him to the surface of the Lake Facility and back to the City. Getting inside without being snapped out by the Dai Li had been exhausting. But it was when Jet had coughed blood that Smellerbee felt the hand of terror finally close over her heart. The healer's wrath and urgency had sent it upward to wrap around her throat and nearly strangle her with fear. 

Tear-stained and spent, she had slumped beside Longshot in the waiting room and dozed fitfully. She woke curled half in his lap, one long archer's arm wrapped securely around her. Wondering what had woken her, she looked up at her companion's face.

Longshot was staring at the door to the healer's clinic. Just inside it were two people: the healer's apprentice and a young man carrying a molded leather case. As he strode to the sickroom, the girl in his wake, she noted his limp and the two missing fingers of his right hand.

"Miss?" Smellerbee surprised herself by calling out to the apprentice. The girl approached them with a curious look on her gentle face. "Will he help J – our friend?"

"He's a surgeon," the girl replied. She looked away uncertainly for a moment, then back at Smellerbee, determined. "He can do things other healers can't. Even his native Water Tribe doesn't have his skills."

The mention of Water Tribe healing brought back memories, and memories brought back tears. The young rebel nodded, bowing her head against Longshot's shoulder. His arm tightened around her.

"Thank you," Smellerbee whispered.

The apprentice nodded and left.

Smellerbee threw caution to the wind and put both arms around the archer, burying her face in his neck. _He_ surprised her this time by wrapping his other arm around her and holding her while she cried. The tears were soft and silent now.

"Do you remember what Jet told us when we were little?" His voice was barely a whisper in the rags of her hair.

She spoke to his neck, still hiccupping. "'Never give up'."

He nodded and kissed her temple. "Never give up."

* * *

_Still you're thinking I'm there_

_With you, tag team, us two_

_Straight through…_

_That's why I stay strong to you_

* * *

It was the sunlight that brought him back, in the end. Full blown, white gold, hell on the eyes, morning sunlight. 

It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen to date.

He couldn't help feeling the moment would have been slightly more uplifting if it had been Katara who walked in the door, but being able to wipe the haunted look from Smellerbee's face was good enough.

"You're awake!" she rasped, dark eyes shining, gripping his hand hard enough to bruise.

He gripped hers back and grinned sleepily. Shared a look with Longshot who stood just behind her shoulder, smiling an unrestrained, tired smile.

He spoke, as usual and out of times of crisis, with his eyes.

'We never gave up.'

* * *

_That's why_

_That's why I stay strong to you_

_So I_

_I would never fade away on you_

_I would never fade away…_

* * *


End file.
